


the love language of flowers

by i_am_sion



Series: ashedue week 2020 [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23538661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_sion/pseuds/i_am_sion
Summary: day 4 of ashedue week // flowersashe talks to flowers and the flowers talk back, apparently.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro
Series: ashedue week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1690933
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	the love language of flowers

Dedue likes daffodils. 

He wasn’t even aware he had a favorite before. He is certain he had no strong preference for any flower. He enjoys gardening, true, but that is only because it is therapeutic. Quiet. The greenhouse is warm and filled with like-minded people who, wanting to escape from the bustling mess that was the monastery, sat and meditated. The best part about gardening is that plants don’t talk back. Plants don’t start wars over who owned what acre of land or kill over who got to wear a crown and who didn’t. They simply take in the sunlight, ask for a bit of water, and look pretty.

As a seasoned gardener, Dedue knows it is a bit more complicated than that. Some require more soil or water or sunlight than others. Some prefer more humidity and others require pruning. Each one is special and unique, but not enough for Dedue to think that any of them were particularly _outstanding._

But… daffodils.

He looks to the patch they had seeded a week or two ago. They were beginning to bloom with the help of some infused magic. The tender yellow buds liked damp soil, so they’re in their own corner by the drain where the excess water can filter into the fishing pond. 

Dedue’s mind wanders to the end of last month, the last days of the Lone Moon, and the first days of spring. 

He and Ashe were on gardening duty together, and he was grateful for it. They were only meant to work, and of course, he never asked for conversation, but the rest of the class had a knack for making him feel unwanted even without words. Ashe was awkward, and tripped over his words more often when he was around him (probably out of fear), but at least he didn’t look at him with disgust or malice. It was a welcome change of pace.

Ashe had taken up the lighter work: seeding, watering, and repotting flowers. He had offered to clean out the shed, but Dedue watched him struggle with the larger pots and bags of soil and fertilizer. He wasn’t a clumsy one by nature, but Dedue still worried he’d injure himself or break something and make more work than this needed to be, so they switched places. Dedue handed him a paper packet of seeds and a watering can. Sheepishly, Ashe gave his thanks. He knew when he was over his head. He told him he had been working to build up just a little more muscle to keep up with the others. Dedue had yet to see much of a result.

Ashe was so delicate. So thin and so gentle and… The light filtered through the ceiling panes of the greenhouse, illuminating every precious freckle on his face. His eyes _shone_. Dedue could not think of a gem or a flower to compare his eyes to; none could ever have been as lovely or as perfectly green. Ashe knelt on his knees, dirt on his nimble fingers, as he settled Morfis seeds into careful rows. He was murmuring under his breath, and Dedue thought he was talking to himself until he heard him in passing. 

“There you go,” Ashe mumbled, spreading soil over the seeds. “Grow big and strong.”

Dedue thought it was amusing. Did Ashe expect them to reply? Did he think that the outcome of their growth was only owed to prayer?

“Are you talking to the seeds?” He asked.

Ashe jumped at the sound of his voice. He was blushing furiously to the tips of his ears. “Were you listening to that?”

“Only partially.” Dedue set the large empty pot he was relocating on the ground beside the other. It was large enough for Ashe to sit in. “I apologize. I did not mean to startle you.”

His classmate simpered and shook his head. “No, it’s alright. You think it’s silly, don’t you?”

Dedue didn’t reply to that, and it only furthered Ashe’s embarrassment.

“I just… Well, plants use carbon dioxide to grow, right? I just thought… maybe, y’know… It’d help them grow, since I’m not good at infusing the seeds with… magic…” His voice trailed off, and he looked away. “It’s silly, you’re right.”

Dedue shook his head. “No. It is a good idea. Practical.”

Ashe drummed his fingers on the soil, still refusing to meet his gaze. “And I’m not… good at this like you.”

Curled up with his knees to his chest, he looked much too small. Dedue knelt beside him. “I would not say you are _bad_ at gardening.”

“Thanks for trying to cheer me up.” He glanced up with a tiny smile.

Dedue felt an unusual need to continue the conversation, but he could not think of something to say. He had never seen Ashe’s eyes this up close. There were flecks of gold in them, floating in the deep pools of green. 

Ashe blushed again, and Dedue regretted not saying anything.

“You know plants speak back to us too, right?” Ashe said, hovered the watering can over the dirt and sprinkled his new plants gently.

“I am not sure I follow.” 

“I read it in a book.” Ashe was always reading books. It wasn’t so much that he had a hunger for knowledge but a love for reading itself. Ashe glanced around and gestured to a patch of flowers that had just started to bloom in explosions of pink and white. “Those are anemones, right? If you give them to someone, it means that you miss them. Flower meanings also vary by their color too. Like lavender.”

Lavenders were not quite in season yet, but Garreg Mach kept some in bloom all year round for tea and medicinal purposes.

“Purple lavender represents royalty, and pink represents… uhm... “ He stopped to think. “Oh! Pink represents youth and grace. I’ve never seen pink ones before though. Have you?”

Dedue nodded. “They grow all over Duscur.” Or at least, they _used_ to.

“I’d like to see them some time.”

“Perhaps we could visit one day.”

Oh. They were both blushing now.

“A-anyways,” Ashe continued to say as he searched for other flowers to talk about. “Pink camellias represent longing and…” 

Dedue listened to Ashe rambling on, even as he stood up and went around the greenhouse, pointing to the flowers whose names and meanings he remembered. Baby’s breath for faith, and hyacinth for constancy and _blue_ hyacinth for sincerity. Magnolias for dignity.

Ashe stopped in his tracks with a soft gasp. “I didn’t know we still had violets growing here!” 

Violets are a late winter flower, but they also did well in early spring.

“I love violets!” His classmate crooned. 

Dedue was not familiar with the meaning of flowers, but he knew this. He had watched the Professor gift him one. Watched his eyes light up as he tucked its stem behind his ear with the biggest grin and a gracious bow. The petals stood out, a stark contrast against his silvery hair, and the image has since been burned into Dedue’s brain.

“They’re the knights of flowers, I think.”

Dedue breathed a laugh through his nose. “What do you mean by that?”

“They represent truth and loyalty,” Ashe told him proudly. “But they can also mean modesty and wisdom. Don’t you think that’s so knight-like? They’re so chivalrous.”

Dedue watched him, still knelt on the ground on opposite sides of the greenhouse now. Other people were staring, since Ashe raised his voice just a tad so Dedue can hear him from a ways apart. 

“Do you have a favorite flower, Dedue? Maybe I could tell you what they mean.”

He opened his mouth to reply-- to tell him that he didn’t have a favorite flower, but Ashe cut him off. 

“Wait, lemme guess! Lemme guess!” Ashe wandered around the greenhouse, one dirty hand on his chin and a focused stare pressing his lips together. He stopped and pointed. “Daffodils! You like daffodils, don’t you?”

Dedue has no idea how he came to that conclusion, and he couldn’t respond to that. He didn’t have a favorite flower before Ashe said it.

“Am I right?” Ashe brought his hands down into fists, tightly clenched in anticipation. He had dirt on his freckled face. “I’m right, aren’t I? They’re just so strong, and they stand out.”

Dedue didn’t have it in him to say no, so he said yes instead, and Ashe gave a little cheer.

In the present, he’s pushing a wheelbarrow of dirt into the greenhouse. It’s time to plant vegetables and fruits so they’ll be ready before the end of summer. He’s handling the heavy work again, and Ashe waits inside, rearranging the flowers to make room for their crops. 

Ashe had been trading shifts with the others, and the two of them spent an awful lot of time together in the greenhouse as well as the garden, but Dedue pretends not to notice. He doesn’t know if Ashe is doing this simply to get him away from the rest of their class, who still haven’t gotten over their hatred for him and his people or… if he is doing this because he wants to spend more time together. Ashe is selfless _and_ selfish like that.

Whatever the case, Ashe has gotten better at gardening. He knows which plants require more sunlight or fertilizer or sunlight than others. Which like the humidity and which required pruning. His magic is still weak, so he still talks to new seedlings, and Dedue listens to his kind words of encouragement. It’s silly. 

It’s endearing. 

“Oh, Dedue.” Ashe smiles at him as he comes in and rubs soil off his face with his sleeve. He had been thinking. “So… I moved the sunflower seeds there by the door, since they’ll need lots and lots of space, and I moved the… baby’s breath over here, since they’re almost out of season…. But I’m not so sure where we’re gonna fit these lavenders….”

Dedue sets the wheelbarrow aside and walks around the greenhouse to inspect his work. He stops at the corner by the drains. The daffodils are in full bloom, and he loves them. They look like stars, and their yellows are so vibrant. They remind him of the specks of gold in Ashe’s eyes and how brightly he grinned when he had “guessed” they were his favorite flower.

“Oh, and I put the violets there with the daffodils to free up space,” Ashe says offhandedly. He’s still wondering about where to relocate the lavender. “You told me that they like their soil moist, so I put them there so the excess water could filter into the fishing pond.”

Dedue stoops to examine them. The yellow and purple blooms are intermingled. 

“Violets,” he murmurs, “for chivalry… And daffodils, for rebirth and new beginnings.”

“What was that?” Ashe perks up out of a flower bed.

Dedue shakes his head. “I was simply talking to the flowers.”


End file.
